The Villain Professor's Second Chance

Kael slumped against the creaking bench, the dawn light barely slicing through the dense fog of The Hollow. His fingers drummed against his thigh, the rhythm erratic, matching his simmering frustration. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of early risers. He could feel the weight of exhaustion in his limbs, but his mind was far from still.

"Stupid wallet," he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the hazy horizon. "And that stupid halfling." The thought of Liora—the infuriating, smug, cryptic mess of a guide—made his jaw tighten. Every encounter with the halfling left Kael teetering between gratitude and the urge to throttle him.

Liora's aloof demeanor grated on him more than the theft itself. How could someone care so little? Kael replayed their exchanges, the smirks, the offhanded remarks, the way Liora always seemed to be two steps ahead while refusing to explain anything. It was maddening. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a groan of irritation.

He closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift. His village loomed in his mind, the faces of those who had sent him here etched in worry and hope. Old Marlow had gripped his shoulder the night before he left, his voice raspy but firm. "You're our best chance, lad. Don't come back empty-handed." The words had weighed on Kael ever since. He'd never seen Marlow look so desperate.

And then there was Elen, her voice softer but no less insistent. "Promise me you'll stay safe. We need you to come back." The memory of her trembling hands as she pressed a small charm into his palm tightened his chest. He'd promised. He'd promised all of them, and now here he was, stuck in this miserable city, chasing shadows with an infuriating halfling.

Kael's fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms. He couldn't let them down. No matter how frustrating this journey became, he had to see it through. The image of his village—the weathered cottages, the fields that stretched toward the horizon—grounded him. He wasn't doing this for himself. Every step forward was for them.

A movement in the corner of his eye snapped him from his thoughts. He turned, his heart skipping as he spotted a figure crouched in the shadows of a narrow alley. For a moment, he froze, his hand instinctively brushing the hilt of his dagger. But then recognition flickered through him.

"Liora?" he called, his voice cautious.

The figure didn't respond immediately. Kael stood, his irritation momentarily replaced by concern, and moved closer. As the dim light touched the figure, Liora's hunched form became clearer. He was clutching something in his hands, his usually sharp gaze distant, clouded by something Kael couldn't quite place.

"Are you alright?" Kael asked, keeping his voice low.

Liora didn't move for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than Kael had ever heard it. "Fine," he muttered, the word almost inaudible.

Kael frowned, stepping closer. "You don't look fine."

Liora's grip on whatever he was holding tightened, and his head lifted just enough for Kael to catch the faintest glimmer of pain in his eyes. Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the mask slid back into place. Liora straightened, his usual smirk tugging at his lips.

"You're awfully nosy for someone who doesn't even know how to keep track of a wallet," Liora quipped, his voice regaining its familiar edge.

Kael's concern evaporated in an instant, replaced by the familiar irritation that Liora seemed to inspire effortlessly. "Oh, there it is," Kael said, throwing his hands up. "The charming personality. I was worried for a second."

Liora's smirk widened, and he reached into his coat. Before Kael could say anything, Liora tossed something toward him. Reflexively, Kael caught it. He stared at the worn leather in his hands, blinking in disbelief.

"My wallet?" he said, his voice rising. He opened it quickly, his fingers skimming over the contents. Everything was there. Coins, the folded note from Elen, even the faded drawing his sister had made years ago.

Liora leaned casually against the wall, watching Kael with a faintly amused expression. "You're welcome," he said, his tone dripping with mock graciousness.

Kael's jaw worked as he struggled to find the right words. His grip tightened on the wallet, the smooth leather worn with age but still familiar beneath his fingers. Finally, he managed a begrudging, "Thanks."

Liora tilted his head, his smirk widening into something bordering on smug satisfaction. "Is that gratitude I hear? Careful, Kael, you might ruin your reputation."

Kael sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced away. The frustration bubbling inside him made his thanks feel like swallowing a stone, but he couldn't deny the relief of having the wallet back—intact, no less. The faded note from Elen, the small charm pressed into his palm, even the crumpled drawing his sister had given him—they were all still there. His irritation softened just slightly, though he refused to show it.

"Don't get used to it," Kael muttered, shoving the wallet securely into his pouch. He turned to look at Liora, who was now leaning against the wall with casual ease, arms crossed and a maddeningly self-assured gleam in his eye. "Seriously, though… how did you get it back?"

Liora chuckled, a low sound that somehow managed to be both infuriating and oddly reassuring. "Let's just say I have my ways. Consider it part of the full halfling experience—annoying, resourceful, and always one step ahead."

Kael groaned, his hand raking through his hair. "You're unbelievable."

"Unbelievably charming? Yes, I know." Liora pushed off the wall, his movements fluid and confident, as though the weight of the world didn't dare rest on his shoulders. He gestured toward the street ahead with a lazy wave. "Now, shall we? Or would you like to keep standing here marveling at my brilliance?" Explore stories at My Virtual Library Empire

Kael rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Let's just get moving before I change my mind about thanking you."

Liora's grin widened. "Don't mention it. Really."

Kael groaned, sliding the wallet back into his pouch. "You're impossible."

"And yet here you are," Liora shot back, pushing off the wall. "Shall we get moving? You've got that big important quest to save the world or whatever."

Kael rolled his eyes but fell into step beside him. As they walked, the tension between them began to ease, their banter filling the space left by the earlier awkwardness. For all his faults, Liora had come through. And as much as Kael hated to admit it, he was starting to trust the halfling—even if it was just a little.

By the time they reached the Alchemist's Guild, the city was beginning to stir. The guild's entrance was an elaborate display, marked by a hand-carved wooden sign in the shape of a bubbling flask, its intricate details catching the early morning light. Vines of ivy climbed up the walls of the building, a mix of old stone and polished wood that exuded both history and functionality.

Inside, the air was alive with the sharp tang of herbs, metallic hints of alchemical processes, and the faint sweetness of distilled potions. Shelves upon shelves lined the walls, crammed with jars of dried roots, bundles of rare flowers, and powders in colors that seemed almost unnatural. Apprentices darted between the aisles, their hands full of glass vials or parchment scrolls, their chatter blending with the bubbling and hissing of various concoctions brewing in cauldrons scattered across the room. The center of the space was dominated by a long wooden counter where seasoned alchemists and clerks handled inquiries, the polished surface covered in scattered tools and parchment.

The Alchemist's Guild was a cornerstone of the city, a place where knowledge, commerce, and craftsmanship converged. It catered to adventurers, healers, and scholars alike, offering potions, ingredients, and the expertise to craft remedies or poisons. The guild's prominence came from its rigorous training and access to rare resources, making it an essential stop for anyone undertaking dangerous quests or seeking esoteric solutions.

Kael approached the front desk, where a bespectacled clerk barely glanced up from their ledger. "Quest parchment," the clerk said curtly.

Kael fumbled to produce the document, sliding it across the counter. The clerk adjusted their glasses and scanned the parchment, their expression unreadable.

"Glowmoss," the clerk said, their voice monotone. "Fragile plant. Found in damp, shaded areas. Handle with care. Whispering Caverns are relatively safe, but keep an eye out for cave rats and gloom beetles."

Liora snorted softly behind Kael. "Dangerous stuff," he murmured, earning a sharp look from the clerk.

The clerk continued as if Liora hadn't spoken. "Report any unusual activity to the guild immediately. And don't come back with broken specimens. You won't be paid."

Kael nodded quickly. "Got it. Thank you."

As they turned to leave, Kael caught snippets of a hushed conversation between two guild members near the door. "...Drakhan's forces have been seen near the border. If the Earl is involved, it's not good news."

Kael slowed, his curiosity piqued. "Drakhan?" he murmured.

Liora's expression darkened instantly. He grabbed Kael's arm, steering him firmly toward the exit. "Don't even think about it," he said, his tone low and cold.

"What? I was just—"

"The Drakhans are not people you mess with," Liora interrupted. "And Earl Drakhan? Let's just say he's not exactly human. Stay out of their way, or you'll regret it."

Kael opened his mouth to argue but stopped at the look on Liora's face. The halfling's usual smirk was gone, replaced by a grim seriousness that made Kael's stomach twist.

"Alright," Kael said quietly. "I'll focus on the quest."

Liora's gaze lingered for a moment before he nodded, his usual demeanor slipping back into place. "Good. Let's keep it that way."

Their next stop was a small supply shop tucked into a narrow alley. The shop was cluttered with shelves of gear, from sturdy boots to fragile glass vials. Kael wandered through the aisles, marveling at the array of items.

Liora followed, picking up random objects and making snide comments. "A glow-in-the-dark compass? Truly essential for your grand adventure."

Kael shot him a look. "It's practical."

"It's overpriced," Liora countered, plucking the compass from Kael's hands and setting it back on the shelf. "Focus on what you actually need. Durable gloves, a good satchel, maybe a weapon that isn't ornamental."

Kael bristled but couldn't argue. With Liora's begrudging help, he selected a sturdy pair of gloves, a reinforced satchel, and a compact knife. By the time they left the shop, Kael felt better prepared—and slightly less irritated with his guide.

"Is this really enough?"